THE OLD MADE NEW

The Dragon

DRAGON

Rodica loved the wondrous limestone formations in Tongue River Cave.  Though the Cave had been shut down by the forest service in July of 2010, she had been inside many times since then.  Such a time as today.

Rodica stood in the Rain Room, where the humidity of the cave caused water to fall constantly from the cave ceiling.  This was her favorite area of the cave, a perpetual, subterranean rainstorm.  She looked around the cave and was satisfied that she was alone.

I made it here first.

The iele set a burlap sack on the floor of the cave beside her, its weight having made her arm sore and numb.  She stretched the limb as best she could, shaking it out to get the blood flowing.  As she saw to her comfort another entered the Rain Room.

“Rodica,” said the small form.

“Akule,” she replied sweetly.  The small warrior set a deerskin bag beside the burlap sack.  He stood patiently.

“You came alone?” Rodica asked.

“I am the last nimerigar in the world,” he said curtly.  She fidgeted with her fingers, nodding dumbly.

“As I am the last iele.  Well, for now.”

“Nobody knows what the result of a union between Yuuma and you will be,” the nimerigar said gruffly.

“Oh, and your union with Esperance will create something pure?” the Romanian faerie retorted.

“Enough!” boomed a voice through the cave, instantly silencing the quibbling magical folk.  The two knelt and bowed their heads to the damp floor of the Rain Room as the dragon entered.

The dragon was the size of a housecat, with scales the color of iron.  It moved on four limbs and kept its wings folded tight against its sides.  It had a long snout, and its head was rimmed with horns.  The dragon’s eyes were as gold and glowed like the sun, lighting the Rain Room wherever its gaze moved.  It inspected the offerings brought to it by Rodica and Akule.  Satisfied, it sat regally before them, appearing both feline and…and something else.

“You may rise,” it said.  The two stood up.  Though even Akule was taller than the dragon, both nimerigar and iele felt as small before the dragon as an old man feels when staring out at the Pacific Ocean.

“Your Grace,” began Rodica, but she was cut off by a snort from the dragon.

“You have lost my interest, Iele,” it said.  She burst into tears when the golden eyes moved to the nimerigar.  “Tell me what I already know, so that she might hear it,” the dragon commanded Akule.

“Like so many other magical folk, I am the last of my kind,” Akule began, his voice proud and strong in spite of the fear that squirmed within him.  “I mated with Esperance, the last of the true faeries.  Our union will bear fruit, and possibly save all magical creatures.”

“Your words are far more confident than your heart, Nimerigar.  You are unsure if your seed will germinate within the faerie.  The faerie never told you what she would do with it if it did, did she?  I thought not.”  The dragon reached out its claws and grasped both offerings.  For a moment the Rain Room was dark because the dragon’s eyes were closed, but when the golden light returned the offerings were gone.  The dragon turned and made to leave, walking regally away from the magical folk who had come to seek its audience.

“Wait!” Rodica called before she could stop herself.  The dragon stopped in its tracks.  “You accepted our offerings.  Are you not bound to help us?”

With lightning speed the dragon was on Rodica’s shoulders, curling its serpentine neck down so that its fangs were at the iele’s windpipe.  Its breath was hot on her throat.

“You forget your place,” it hissed.  “I am the most powerful creature of magic on Earth.  Each and every one of you are my subjects, never forget that,” it jumped down from the terrified faerie’s shoulders.

“Why have we become so few?” asked Akule of the dragon.

“We too long have been caught up in our own petty differences, Nimerigar.  Magician fought demon, cyclops battled vampire, and through it all humanity prospered.  Humankind sought to understand the world by codifying it scientifically, and as the centuries passed they had less need for gods, magic, and dragons.  Wishes went unwished.  Dreams went undared.  Songs went unsung.  Time wore our kind down as it does the mountain.”

The dragon paced the Rain Room, deadly grace evident in its every motion.  The others could do little more than watch it, awed by its power.

“The time of our sequester draws to an end.  A new world of magic will rise from the ashes of this one.”

“But we are divided,” Rodica complained.

“How can we ever hope to recover our strength?” asked Akule.  The dragon laughed, a nightmare sound.

“Faerie follows my command, Nimerigar.  Do not dare doubt me.”

“No, O Potent One,” Akule replied and bowed low.  The dragon simply flicked its tail indifferently.

“Faerie was the last of her kind,” the dragon explained.  “I granted her fertility.  She found a mortal bearing a true wish, and we will use that wish to reclaim Earth.  That wish will be the catalyst that calls to all magical creatures, and it will be the genesis of new creatures.”

“There will be war,” Akule said, a warning note in his voice.  “Yuuma and his lot will try to claim my child for their own and take the seat of power.”

“You will oppose this?” asked Rodica.  Akule nodded.

“There are those of us who believe that magic can coexist with humanity,” he replied.  The dragon laughed again.

“See?” asked Rodica.  “How can you be so foolish as to oppose us?”

“You presume much, Iele,” the dragon warned.  “I care only to see Earth restored to its former magical glory.”

“Then you side with him?” she asked.  The dragon roared in anger.

“Fool! War is necessary to restore Earth’s magic.  I can have no part in that—my duty is elsewhere.  Whether you line up behind Kappa or Nimerigar matters little to me.  My only concern is to see the old made new.”